Substandard Instinct[Kilian]

[Felix Sbarge]

Felix leaned against the railing of the second floor of dorms. He technically wasn't supposed to be there. Well, not technically, he could stand wherever he liked, except, he know some girls would take offense at a guy hanging out of their floor. But it was safer up here, seeing as the ground was still soggy and he wanted some fresh air. He tugged the collar of his self designed bomber jacket closer around his shoulders, cold for some reason but not quite sure why. It was autumn, not winter. Maybe he was just super sensitive? But only recently? He shrugged to himself. Maybe it was just his gut trying to tell him something. He'd always been horribly at reading that. Some tough guy he'd make. And that being said, wearing a bomber jacket didn't help people get the right idea. Then again, no one ever had the right idea about him.

Foot steps tempted to draw his attention away from out over the rail, but he pressed the urge away. Or he tried to. He was the sort of person who, even though he wasn't good at it, liked to know who and what was around him. So it wasn't much of a battle for his curiosity and need-to-know personality traits to commandeer his body for a few seconds.

Nondescript brown eyes turned with the rest of him, brown hair cut short, but still too long; it was becoming a slowly increasing pain to gel it, since it was too heavy to stay up. Time for a hair cut... Unconsciously, he ran a hand through his hair, forcing the still flexible gelled parts back. He had his other hand, his left, the one he didn't trust to be steady in the this weather, shoved safely in his jeans front pocket, his wrist flipping up the grey shirt sticking out under the jacket. He fiddled with the guitar pic nestled there, the totem he always carried with him, but didn't know why.

His eyes picked up on the person leaving their dorm room three doors down wearing an Allied arm band. That was all that was recognizable as standard military, as far as he knew it. But it was enough to put him off a little. He wasn't a fan of the military. Well, scratch that, he was fine with the military, he wasn't a fan of war. Or fighting in general. That was the general pacifist nature, of course, so there was little he could do to supplant these thoughts of fear resolving around the figure. At first, he thought it was a guy. The uniform, for he could recognize it as a uniform, if not for what, and the features... But when he remembered what floor he was on. The second. And even if guys were up here...he hoped none of them had keys... Well, suffice to say that "he" had to be a "she" seeing as the females room up and the guys roomed down. And there was more than enough empty dorms down... Felix blinked the idea away and approached the confusing girl.

"That is the greatest uniform to step in front of me," he said honestly. He was a fashion major and while he might be a pacifist, he couldn't deny that military was a personal favorite style of his. Her's was clearly not American nor regulation and he was intrigued.


{ooc: ehh, sort of a lazy post on my part. sorry I'm not imaginative at the moment to put the post anywhere else...}

[Kilian Qatar]

Kilian took great pride in her uniform; it was one of the few things in her life that she could wear that would show not only her personal achievements, but part of where she came from - her very own personal history. Not only that, but she was glad that there were people who looked at her and questioned why she wore this uniform. She was glad that there were people that didn't like the fact that she wore it, and she was glad that she was given the opportunity to tell those people where they could shove their opinion.

Leaving the dorm room, she had little idea of where she should go. Doubtless, she'd likely end up somewhere near the water and start practicing with her scimitar, if for no other reason than to have something to do; something that would distract her enough to take her mind off her studies and just let it wander for a while. It was something that she had to do now and then, in order to stay sane, really. If she didn't, eventually, she would blow a gasket and find something to do that usually wasn't exactly friendly.

When the young man approached her, at first she made to step around him and continue on her way, but his words stopped her. A compliment? She raised her head just a little to look at him, her eyes no longer hidden by the visor of her officer's cap, and raised a brow as she looked him over. The tiniest, slightest smile crossed her lips finally as she spoke. "Thank you for the compliment, Mr...?"




((OMG sorry that took so long v.v))

[Felix Sbarge]

"Well, the first name is Felix, but if you really want to go for the respect factor, it's Felix Wellington Sbarge." He smiled, Irish accent unmistakable in such lean undertone. "Of course, "Mr." is a sign of respect. I doubt I'll give you much opportunity for that..." Felix shrugged the statement about his laid-backed, annoying, pointless nature aside. "Though, by the looks of you, I should probably call you 'ma'am," he added, voice serious, the grin from moments before wiped clean away. Of course, such words were also an indirect invitation for her name as well.

He considered throwing in an attention and salute, but then figured, as the veteran that she appeared and the ragged, uncommitted wanna-be that he was, she'd just find him annoying. At least, he would find himself annoying. And while Felix didn't care so much what he said to or about others as far as being annoying, he made it a point not to do or say things he himself would get pissed about if another annoying speck asked him. Of course, the fashion major wasn't very easily annoyed, so there weren't many conversations he would avoid. And this, of course, only made some people hate him more.

Blushing, he tugged at the hem of his bomber jacket again, then questioned why the hell he was blushing. The idea that he liked her was, well, not mind boggling. He found nearly everybody suitable for some point or another, whether on looks or personality or that funny quirk...but he was inclined to be more impressed by guys. So to say he liked her, and then compare that level of like to his current state of mind, he found that not a few things added up. He blinked, shook his head internally, pulled his mind away from her short, clean, crisp haircut under that cap.

It was hard to focus back on her uniform, the initial thing that had caught his eyes, but he managed to wheel himself around for it. "I was curious about all the meaning behind it..." Again, something that he wasn't too concerned about, should someone ask what the guitar pic in his pocket meant, or why he, a pacifist, liked military style clothing and wore bomber jackets. Felix honestly wouldn't mind answering, so he always figured, "why should others mind?" And that was what got him into trouble, his smooth, unconcerned nature about life in general. In fact, that was how he'd gotten his scars to begin with, but that was something he ignored unless asked about. Sometimes, he would tell others what they wanted to know about him while not telling it to himself.

Felix eyed the scimitar, the arm band, the coat, wondered at the colors, wondered at the make, wondered at the material and the reason she wore it. For even if he didn't like military types so much, he still understood that they wore what they wore for a reason, not just because they were told to. Never becuase they were told to actually. To them, their uniform was part of themselves. He respected that, even if he would never support it himself. Of course, he was hesitant to voice this opinion, as, with all military shadowed characters, they were more than capable of taking offense and working it out on him in ways he never wished to defend himself from.


{ooc: no worries. took me a long time too, so we've even. I just started school, so I'm bound to be slow... ><}